1. Seeing the sun has an immediate improvement on mood. Baltimore is kind of pretty when its not covered in 12 foot mountains of dirty snow.
2. In particular, the identity matrix serves as the unit of the ring of all n-by-n matrices, and as the identity element of the general linear group GL(n) consisting of all invertible n-by-n matrices. (The identity matrix itself is invertible, being its own inverse.)
I have no idea what that means but apparently I should. Thats going to be one of those things that I cross my fingers and hope doesnt show up on the exam. In the meantime, I will amuse myself with Poisson regressions and Cox proportional hazards. I might not really know what those are either, but at least I understand the words.
3. Some people have not read Cappyboppy by Bill Peet. That is a travesty. But this lady obviously did...
http://www.peoplepets.com/photos/strange/life-with-the-world-s-largest-rodent/1
4. And finally, when all else fails, pour yourself some wine, eat a chocolate chip cookie, and count the days until Spring Break. I believe the number is 10.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Update
At popular request, I am going to update a little bit on the goings on in my life.
As many of you know, I am back in the United States for a somewhat indefinite period of time. At the moment, I am a PhD student at Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. Since PhDs are a little more amorphous than MDs and JDs there isnt necessarily a certain timeline that Im working under at the moment. So at least for the next year and a half to three and a half years, I will be a resident of Baltimore. Thats not so bad I suppose. Its no Africa, especially given the past month of what seems like near constant blizzards, but I do live next to a grocery store that sells salsa, hummus, chips, and fake chicken nuggets. So could things be worse? Yeah, definitely.
Right now I am mostly taking required classes and a lot of math. No one told me that getting a PhD in Public Health was basically getting a PhD in complex math, but it sure seems like it now. Thats a little known secret folks, so I am entrusting it to you. I am also working with my advisor on a series of papers for the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. We are examining the database they have compiled but never used to look at the reproductive health of refugees. So far its pretty slow going. It seems like with the blizzards, most of our motivation has gone out the window.
And so with that, I want to leave a link to some blizzard photos.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2032087&id=48101028&l=0d84dbf4a0
And I will try to update more often. I didnt realize that anyone really read this! So I will try to write a little bit about what its like being a graduate student and a resident of the other coast.
As many of you know, I am back in the United States for a somewhat indefinite period of time. At the moment, I am a PhD student at Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. Since PhDs are a little more amorphous than MDs and JDs there isnt necessarily a certain timeline that Im working under at the moment. So at least for the next year and a half to three and a half years, I will be a resident of Baltimore. Thats not so bad I suppose. Its no Africa, especially given the past month of what seems like near constant blizzards, but I do live next to a grocery store that sells salsa, hummus, chips, and fake chicken nuggets. So could things be worse? Yeah, definitely.
Right now I am mostly taking required classes and a lot of math. No one told me that getting a PhD in Public Health was basically getting a PhD in complex math, but it sure seems like it now. Thats a little known secret folks, so I am entrusting it to you. I am also working with my advisor on a series of papers for the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. We are examining the database they have compiled but never used to look at the reproductive health of refugees. So far its pretty slow going. It seems like with the blizzards, most of our motivation has gone out the window.
And so with that, I want to leave a link to some blizzard photos.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2032087&id=48101028&l=0d84dbf4a0
And I will try to update more often. I didnt realize that anyone really read this! So I will try to write a little bit about what its like being a graduate student and a resident of the other coast.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Zanzibar
I will be the first to admit that I live a pretty sweet life. I have had the chance to see and do things that most people dream about. This was reinforced ten times over when Marta and I went to Zanzibar last week. July 1 and 4 are holidays in Rwanda so Marta and I took the opportunity to take six days off at the price of two and headed off to an island adventure. Just a quick wikipedia update for all y'all... Zanzibar is an island archipelago off the coast of Tanzania (its the Zan in Tanzania) that used to be a major Arab trading port. So it has a strong Arab influence (98% of the island is Muslim) as well as a strong Indian influence from continued trade and of course continued Western influence from tourists, its main economy. So it has an amazing culture on top of perfect, and I do mean perfect beaches.
Marta and I flew in from Kilimanjaro and the first thing that we saw was water that rivaled the crayola "Turquoise" crayon. The water was so clear that you could make out the coral reefs beneath the water from the air. The airport is just south of Zanzibar City, the main city in Zanzibar, and as you fly in, you see thousands of tin roofs reflecting the heat and sun back up to the sky, like thousands of mirrors. When we landed, we were quickly ushered through the airport and into a waiting taxi that was literally from 1953. Our driver gave us an impromptu tour of the city (the Indian Embassy is the biggest and the Soviet block buildings built by the East Germans are still standing) and drove us into Stone Town, the oldest part of Zanzibar city and a World Historical Site.
It was in a word... stunning. Narrow alleys wind around tall weathered buildings that have been standing for hundreds of years. All the doors are wide, heavy wooden doors with ornate carvings and metal decorations, some rounded on the top, spiked, or flat depending on the era the building was erected and the cultural influences at the time.
We walked around Stone Town the first day, shopping and eating. After a year of brochettes and fries, it was a culinary explosion. Lobster, crab, octopus, shrimp, prawns, Italian, Indian, Japanese, Chinese... I have to stop. The best was probably the strip of street food vendors that set up shop as the sun was setting. Hundreds of people just walked up and down the line of street vendors eating Zanzibar Pizza, roasted crab, octopus skewers, or spiced tuna. We ate only briefly at the street food since we also wanted beer (what can I say... a year of Primus and Mutzig leaves one hungry for choices) and since Zanzibar is Muslim, alcohol is not allowed on the streets. After an meal which actually left me satisfied for the first time in a year, Marta and I went back to the hotel and crashed. Oh and side note, our room was cleverly separated from our bathroom by a shower curtain. Ingenious. And completely not-soundproof.
The second day, as much as we wanted to stay in Stone Town, we were also anxious for the beach. So after breakfast, we arranged a shuttle and took off for the Northwest beaches, specifically Kendwa beach about an hour north of Stone Town and a world away. At low tide, the beach stretches around the tip of the island for several kilometers with turqouise water on one side and jungle (and hotels) on the other. The sand is so soft that it felt like walking on flour and was almost white, with minute pieces of red (Marta and I still cant figure out where the red came from). There isnt too much to say about the next two days... We laid on the beach, drank beer, ate sea food, and made friends with the bartenders at the bar down the beach because they were nicer and cheaper and just generally had a completely lazy and indulgent time.
On the third morning, July 4, we went snorkeling. We went with a tour and ended up with a French Canadian couple, a Swedish couple, two friends from Norway, and a girl from England/ Australia. It took about three hours to reach the private island that we snorkeled off of (couldnt actually go on the island. That would have cost $300). So we all laid on the top level of the dhow (traditional fishing boat) and watched the island pass slowly by. When we got to the island everyone just jumped in and snorkeled around except for yours truly. I jumped in and pretty much swallowed a bunch of water, got water in my mask, and started thrashing around like a wounded seal (oh there are sharks in Zanzibar by the way). So finally I got it together, swam back to the boat, and practiced a little. Its not hard, but its unnatural and I apparently do not take naturally to swim sports. But after about ten minutes holding onto the boat and a new mask, i was good to go. I still swallowed a lot of water and i was afraid to dive under the water, but it was amazing nonetheless. We were swimming just feet above coral reefs with big violet and yellow fish, long thin silver fish, urchins, and star fish and at one point i looked up and i was swimming through a school of black and white striped fish. Every time I turned, they would turn and surround me again, swimming around and in front of me. After snorkeling, we went to a beach just across the channel from the island and had bbq fish, coconut rice, and fresh pineapple and oranges on the beach. It was a pretty idyllic day. Other than being spied on by a 13 year old boy when I was popping a squat. That wasnt as much fun.
After we got back, we reverted back to the previous pattern of beers and beach chairs until it got dark. We decided to walk down the beach a little to a place that had a band the night before and play some board games. In the middle of our second game, Kilimanjaro, a Masai warrior came and sat next to us and then started playing. Apparently he used to play all the time. All I can say is this... never get into a betting game against a Masai warrior playing Jenga.
After the jenga game, we made our way back to Kendwa rocks which was having its monthly full moon party, which draws people literally from around the island and from Dar. There was an acrobat squad and two djs and apparently a bbq buffet, which we were too late for (45 minutes after it opened, picked clean). Marta and I made friends with a middle aged south african couple that wanted us to stay with them for World Cup (the own a couple hotels) and were very intent on seeing us married so promised to fix us up with eligible footballers. Crap I just realized we left without getting their number. Stupid Linnea!
Unfortunately, we had to leave the next morning so we didnt stay too late at the full moon party. Late enough to regret it the next day but also early enough to make it through the day without hating life. You've been there. So the next day we left Kendwa and got a shuttle back into Zanzibar town. When we got the airport, the line was really long and completely stopped. We were waiting as they came along grabbing people out of line for flights that were literally leaving and rushing them through security (probably not the most secure airport in the world, now that I think about it). All of a sudden, a man came up to me asked me if I was on flight 712 to Dar (I was on 423 which left an hour later by the way) and grabbed my ticket. He started yelling at Marta (she was in the other line so we could cover our bases) to get over to where we were. Then he disappeared into a small office as we stood around completely confused and came out about ten minutes later with handwritten boarding passes for the new flight that looked like movie tickets and told us to hurry hurry, being quite annoyed that we were holding up the plane, and rushing us through security (no worries though we still had to pay the five dollar fee for intercountry travel). We ran out onto the tarmac and were hurried up the ramp by an impatient ground squad, chastised for being late (please keep in mind we were waiting for a different flight that was not scheduled to leave for another hour and a half) and then pushed into our seats. During this jostling, Marta dropped her passport in the plane, which was exactly the same color as the passport, so after we landed in Dar, Marta and I were literally on our hands and knees pawing the floor, looking for her passport. Which we found with very little help from the flight crew. One of them asked me "Why did you drop the passport in the middle when you were seated in the front?" Right... because we meant to do that.
So after that flight, we sat in the Dar es Salaam airport (it smells like bathroom FYI) and then were on our way to Kilimanjaro again. We spent the night in Moshi which seems like a pretty happening town at the base of Kili and the jump off point for people hiking the mountain. Unfortunately, we had neither the time nor money to do so, but at least I have seen it now! Finally, after spending the night in Moshi (there are no flights from Zanzibar to Rwanda on the same day using the airline we chose so we ended up with an overnight layover. It was cool though and Im glad we did) we were back on the flight to Rwanda and back at work by noon. Although I did have to shower because by then I hadnt showered for umm I think four days. I counted the ocean as a wash. My hair however did not.
Marta and I flew in from Kilimanjaro and the first thing that we saw was water that rivaled the crayola "Turquoise" crayon. The water was so clear that you could make out the coral reefs beneath the water from the air. The airport is just south of Zanzibar City, the main city in Zanzibar, and as you fly in, you see thousands of tin roofs reflecting the heat and sun back up to the sky, like thousands of mirrors. When we landed, we were quickly ushered through the airport and into a waiting taxi that was literally from 1953. Our driver gave us an impromptu tour of the city (the Indian Embassy is the biggest and the Soviet block buildings built by the East Germans are still standing) and drove us into Stone Town, the oldest part of Zanzibar city and a World Historical Site.
It was in a word... stunning. Narrow alleys wind around tall weathered buildings that have been standing for hundreds of years. All the doors are wide, heavy wooden doors with ornate carvings and metal decorations, some rounded on the top, spiked, or flat depending on the era the building was erected and the cultural influences at the time.
We walked around Stone Town the first day, shopping and eating. After a year of brochettes and fries, it was a culinary explosion. Lobster, crab, octopus, shrimp, prawns, Italian, Indian, Japanese, Chinese... I have to stop. The best was probably the strip of street food vendors that set up shop as the sun was setting. Hundreds of people just walked up and down the line of street vendors eating Zanzibar Pizza, roasted crab, octopus skewers, or spiced tuna. We ate only briefly at the street food since we also wanted beer (what can I say... a year of Primus and Mutzig leaves one hungry for choices) and since Zanzibar is Muslim, alcohol is not allowed on the streets. After an meal which actually left me satisfied for the first time in a year, Marta and I went back to the hotel and crashed. Oh and side note, our room was cleverly separated from our bathroom by a shower curtain. Ingenious. And completely not-soundproof.
The second day, as much as we wanted to stay in Stone Town, we were also anxious for the beach. So after breakfast, we arranged a shuttle and took off for the Northwest beaches, specifically Kendwa beach about an hour north of Stone Town and a world away. At low tide, the beach stretches around the tip of the island for several kilometers with turqouise water on one side and jungle (and hotels) on the other. The sand is so soft that it felt like walking on flour and was almost white, with minute pieces of red (Marta and I still cant figure out where the red came from). There isnt too much to say about the next two days... We laid on the beach, drank beer, ate sea food, and made friends with the bartenders at the bar down the beach because they were nicer and cheaper and just generally had a completely lazy and indulgent time.
On the third morning, July 4, we went snorkeling. We went with a tour and ended up with a French Canadian couple, a Swedish couple, two friends from Norway, and a girl from England/ Australia. It took about three hours to reach the private island that we snorkeled off of (couldnt actually go on the island. That would have cost $300). So we all laid on the top level of the dhow (traditional fishing boat) and watched the island pass slowly by. When we got to the island everyone just jumped in and snorkeled around except for yours truly. I jumped in and pretty much swallowed a bunch of water, got water in my mask, and started thrashing around like a wounded seal (oh there are sharks in Zanzibar by the way). So finally I got it together, swam back to the boat, and practiced a little. Its not hard, but its unnatural and I apparently do not take naturally to swim sports. But after about ten minutes holding onto the boat and a new mask, i was good to go. I still swallowed a lot of water and i was afraid to dive under the water, but it was amazing nonetheless. We were swimming just feet above coral reefs with big violet and yellow fish, long thin silver fish, urchins, and star fish and at one point i looked up and i was swimming through a school of black and white striped fish. Every time I turned, they would turn and surround me again, swimming around and in front of me. After snorkeling, we went to a beach just across the channel from the island and had bbq fish, coconut rice, and fresh pineapple and oranges on the beach. It was a pretty idyllic day. Other than being spied on by a 13 year old boy when I was popping a squat. That wasnt as much fun.
After we got back, we reverted back to the previous pattern of beers and beach chairs until it got dark. We decided to walk down the beach a little to a place that had a band the night before and play some board games. In the middle of our second game, Kilimanjaro, a Masai warrior came and sat next to us and then started playing. Apparently he used to play all the time. All I can say is this... never get into a betting game against a Masai warrior playing Jenga.
After the jenga game, we made our way back to Kendwa rocks which was having its monthly full moon party, which draws people literally from around the island and from Dar. There was an acrobat squad and two djs and apparently a bbq buffet, which we were too late for (45 minutes after it opened, picked clean). Marta and I made friends with a middle aged south african couple that wanted us to stay with them for World Cup (the own a couple hotels) and were very intent on seeing us married so promised to fix us up with eligible footballers. Crap I just realized we left without getting their number. Stupid Linnea!
Unfortunately, we had to leave the next morning so we didnt stay too late at the full moon party. Late enough to regret it the next day but also early enough to make it through the day without hating life. You've been there. So the next day we left Kendwa and got a shuttle back into Zanzibar town. When we got the airport, the line was really long and completely stopped. We were waiting as they came along grabbing people out of line for flights that were literally leaving and rushing them through security (probably not the most secure airport in the world, now that I think about it). All of a sudden, a man came up to me asked me if I was on flight 712 to Dar (I was on 423 which left an hour later by the way) and grabbed my ticket. He started yelling at Marta (she was in the other line so we could cover our bases) to get over to where we were. Then he disappeared into a small office as we stood around completely confused and came out about ten minutes later with handwritten boarding passes for the new flight that looked like movie tickets and told us to hurry hurry, being quite annoyed that we were holding up the plane, and rushing us through security (no worries though we still had to pay the five dollar fee for intercountry travel). We ran out onto the tarmac and were hurried up the ramp by an impatient ground squad, chastised for being late (please keep in mind we were waiting for a different flight that was not scheduled to leave for another hour and a half) and then pushed into our seats. During this jostling, Marta dropped her passport in the plane, which was exactly the same color as the passport, so after we landed in Dar, Marta and I were literally on our hands and knees pawing the floor, looking for her passport. Which we found with very little help from the flight crew. One of them asked me "Why did you drop the passport in the middle when you were seated in the front?" Right... because we meant to do that.
So after that flight, we sat in the Dar es Salaam airport (it smells like bathroom FYI) and then were on our way to Kilimanjaro again. We spent the night in Moshi which seems like a pretty happening town at the base of Kili and the jump off point for people hiking the mountain. Unfortunately, we had neither the time nor money to do so, but at least I have seen it now! Finally, after spending the night in Moshi (there are no flights from Zanzibar to Rwanda on the same day using the airline we chose so we ended up with an overnight layover. It was cool though and Im glad we did) we were back on the flight to Rwanda and back at work by noon. Although I did have to shower because by then I hadnt showered for umm I think four days. I counted the ocean as a wash. My hair however did not.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The sacrifices I make...
I just wanted to relay the events of my weekend in case there were still people out there who thought that I am really sacrificing a lot by roughing it in Africa. On Saturday morning, I woke up early and went for a 7-8 mile run (not sure exactly). Rather than make me tired, it gave me all sorts of energy so I baked some zucchini bread, called some friends to come over, and then made pancakes, eggs, toast and coffee for a breakfast brunch. After that, we decided the only way to continue the day was to lay out by a pool all day. Which we did, while eating pizza and drinking beer. While there, we came up with the brilliant idea of going to a bar that has a big screen tv and convincing them to play a movie of our choice while we laid on the lawn and ate food. We went to bed pretty early because Sunday we decided we wanted to go hiking, so we went to Mount Kabuye, the mountain I climbed a few months ago, and hiked up to the top. After the five hour hike, we rolled back into town and then ate ourselves silly on Indian food.
All in all, it was a great, exhausting, relaxing, food-filled, over-active weekend. I expect more of the same in the run-up to coming home. I will let you know how that works out!
All in all, it was a great, exhausting, relaxing, food-filled, over-active weekend. I expect more of the same in the run-up to coming home. I will let you know how that works out!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Random thoughts while the internet is down
My time here is quickly coming to a close. By the end of July, I will be finished at PSF and traveling home. So of course, this is a time of reflection as I think back on my last year. In so many ways it doesn’t seem like any time at all and in other ways, I feel as though I have been here forever. When I think back on being here, the things that I have done, the people I have met, I feel like I just got here. There are still so many people that I know, but just on the surface, people who I would like to get to know better. There are people that I meet and want to become better friends with, there are places that I want to visit or revisit. When I think of these things, I feel as though I have just touched down in Rwanda.
But when I think about family and friends at home, that is when I feel I have been away forever. Friends that are celebrating their wedding anniversaries, announcing births or engagements… missing these milestones is when I feel I have been gone far longer than a year. In no way do I want these things for myself, at least not yet (sorry Mom), but to miss them when other people are celebrating, it makes me think that I have been gone for so much, missed so much. So I have mixed feelings about coming home. I am excited to see family and friends, but I will miss this place dearly, miss the family and friends that I have made here.
I will miss the perfect weather, the gorgeous hills, the reserved but incredibly strong people, the generosity that they show us everyday. I won’t miss the stares, the cat calls, the cockroaches. I will miss the peacefulness and relaxation that comes with living simply, I will miss having time to cook meals and bake, run long distances and practice yoga. I won’t miss the boredom when these options are exhausted or the sense of being cheated that comes with negotiating transportation. I will miss the ease of travel and the opportunity to see incredible things, things that are just an hour away for me, but a lifetime away for other people. I will miss the sense that I am living an incredible adventure, even though for the most part it is as routine as the most average life in the US. I won’t miss feeling like everything here is just a little bit harder, takes a little bit longer, and requires a little more patience than anywhere else. Or maybe I will miss that. Because that reminds me how lucky I am, how lucky we all are, that our lives are so simple, so convenient. Maybe having to work a little bit harder for something, or having to wait a few more minutes for something, makes us harder working, kinder, more patient people. Maybe out of everything, the littlest daily challenges are what I will miss most. Maybe not… either way, I know I won’t miss the cockroaches.
But when I think about family and friends at home, that is when I feel I have been away forever. Friends that are celebrating their wedding anniversaries, announcing births or engagements… missing these milestones is when I feel I have been gone far longer than a year. In no way do I want these things for myself, at least not yet (sorry Mom), but to miss them when other people are celebrating, it makes me think that I have been gone for so much, missed so much. So I have mixed feelings about coming home. I am excited to see family and friends, but I will miss this place dearly, miss the family and friends that I have made here.
I will miss the perfect weather, the gorgeous hills, the reserved but incredibly strong people, the generosity that they show us everyday. I won’t miss the stares, the cat calls, the cockroaches. I will miss the peacefulness and relaxation that comes with living simply, I will miss having time to cook meals and bake, run long distances and practice yoga. I won’t miss the boredom when these options are exhausted or the sense of being cheated that comes with negotiating transportation. I will miss the ease of travel and the opportunity to see incredible things, things that are just an hour away for me, but a lifetime away for other people. I will miss the sense that I am living an incredible adventure, even though for the most part it is as routine as the most average life in the US. I won’t miss feeling like everything here is just a little bit harder, takes a little bit longer, and requires a little more patience than anywhere else. Or maybe I will miss that. Because that reminds me how lucky I am, how lucky we all are, that our lives are so simple, so convenient. Maybe having to work a little bit harder for something, or having to wait a few more minutes for something, makes us harder working, kinder, more patient people. Maybe out of everything, the littlest daily challenges are what I will miss most. Maybe not… either way, I know I won’t miss the cockroaches.
Cold War Part Deux
I just wanted to relate what happened last weekend, as it was one of the most bizarre moments of my life.
Lake Kivu separates most of Rwanda from DR Congo. There are a couple main “resort” towns along the lake, one of them being Gisenyi which we have been to several times, and one is called Kibuye. Marta, my roommate, and I had never been to Kibuye so we decided it was time to go as we are both leaving soon. So Marta organized a weekend adventure for us. And since if one person goes on vacation, we all go, there ended up being 14 of us. One of the guys that went, James, organized a boat ride for us on the lake to visit various islands. The boat was essentially a large covered rowboat, although it did have an outboard motor. It also leaked heavily and had an official bailer. For someone vaguely afraid of drowning, it was not the most comforting site to sit next to the bailer, ankle deep in water. Anyway, we were touring around the lake when we came to a small island and there standing on the beach, was a man with flowing locks wearing nothing but a speedo and waving us down. Turns out the island is populated by a group of ten to twelve Russian men, all middle age, most a little overweight, and most wearing bathing suits that left very little to the imagination. There was also a monkey wearing a diaper. Upon our arrival, there was much merriment among the Russian men and invitations to drink Russian vodka with them. Being the well-mannered people we are, we of course took them up on the invitation, and let me tell you, real Russian vodka is delicious. NOTHING like what you get in the US, although I assume the effect is much the same since after we had all shared the vodka, we took part in “Cold War Part II” which was an extended dive competition between America and Russia. I’m not sure that anyone won. Except maybe the monkey because he kept stealing people’s beers when they weren’t looking. It is amazing how much alcohol a monkey can drink.
Lake Kivu separates most of Rwanda from DR Congo. There are a couple main “resort” towns along the lake, one of them being Gisenyi which we have been to several times, and one is called Kibuye. Marta, my roommate, and I had never been to Kibuye so we decided it was time to go as we are both leaving soon. So Marta organized a weekend adventure for us. And since if one person goes on vacation, we all go, there ended up being 14 of us. One of the guys that went, James, organized a boat ride for us on the lake to visit various islands. The boat was essentially a large covered rowboat, although it did have an outboard motor. It also leaked heavily and had an official bailer. For someone vaguely afraid of drowning, it was not the most comforting site to sit next to the bailer, ankle deep in water. Anyway, we were touring around the lake when we came to a small island and there standing on the beach, was a man with flowing locks wearing nothing but a speedo and waving us down. Turns out the island is populated by a group of ten to twelve Russian men, all middle age, most a little overweight, and most wearing bathing suits that left very little to the imagination. There was also a monkey wearing a diaper. Upon our arrival, there was much merriment among the Russian men and invitations to drink Russian vodka with them. Being the well-mannered people we are, we of course took them up on the invitation, and let me tell you, real Russian vodka is delicious. NOTHING like what you get in the US, although I assume the effect is much the same since after we had all shared the vodka, we took part in “Cold War Part II” which was an extended dive competition between America and Russia. I’m not sure that anyone won. Except maybe the monkey because he kept stealing people’s beers when they weren’t looking. It is amazing how much alcohol a monkey can drink.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Pictures from Nyungwe
As promised, here are some pictures from Nyungwe National Forest, the largest remaining tract of protected rainforest in Eastern and Northern Africa, which is sad because it is really pretty small, about 1000km2. Regardless of the biting ants, poisonous snakes, and excruciatingly steep hikes, its an amazing place and worth the pain (although in the middle of our 10k hike I did wonder what would happen if one of us just collapsed in exhaustion...)
Unfortunately I tried to post more pictures but it just isnt happening. So here is the good old facebook link and I hope that at least some of you will be able to see it...
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026550&id=48101028&l=96d4e32172
Unfortunately I tried to post more pictures but it just isnt happening. So here is the good old facebook link and I hope that at least some of you will be able to see it...
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026550&id=48101028&l=96d4e32172
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